


invitation to the party

by Glitter_Lisp



Series: reboot [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Child Death, Gen, Grim Reaper Harry Hook, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character Death(s), Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Lisp/pseuds/Glitter_Lisp
Summary: Some deaths are harder than others. And some are much, much harder.





	invitation to the party

**Author's Note:**

> THE CHILD DEATH TAG IS NOT A JOKE. A KID DIES IN THIS. (Well, immediately prior to this; Harry comes up on her a few minutes after her death.) Please take care of yourselves; if this is going to bother you, now is the time to click back. 
> 
> You ever get stuck on a fic and think "I'll take a quick break from this to kill a child"
> 
> Anyways there is an actual sequel to "reuse, recycle, resurrect" in the works but it's... fighting me. So here's some depressing nonsense instead :')

The kid was already crying when Harry got there, sitting on the ground with her legs curled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them while her tiny frame was wracked with sobs. She was facing her own body, lying still and grey in the snow. 

_ Please be an angel, _ Harry thought desperately.  _ Please, please be an angel. _

She turned to look at him when she heard him coming, and her expression shifted from confused misery to absolute terror in the space of a breath. Harry sighed, but he didn't stop moving, just crunched forward through the snow until he was close enough to sit next to her. He kept his pose deliberately relaxed, legs drawn up loosely, his arms layered on top of his knees. He faced her body, but he didn't look at it. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he said softly, and she let out a small, stifled sob. “It's okay, sweetheart. You can cry if you want to. I know you're upset.”

“I want my mom,” she said through her tears. “I was looking for her. But I got lost and it was–” Her voice cracked. “It's  _ cold. _ And I couldn't find her. And I've been looking but I got so tired and I thought if I just sat down for a second I could–”

She broke off, pressing her face to her knees and trying to curl in even tighter on herself. Harry bit his lip, going tense as he fought the urge to put his arm around her. If she was seeing the grim reaper, that would hardly be a comfort. 

“I know, love,” he said instead. “You tried really hard. You did a good job. You were so brave.”

“I want my  _ mom,” _ she repeated, nearly wailing now. 

Harry closed his eyes. “I know you do.” He had to swallow a few times before he could get his voice steady enough to ask, “Do you know who I am?”

She nodded, still crying helplessly as she said, “You're Death.” He could almost hear the capital  _ D _ click into place. She was certain of herself, for being so young. 

“Sort of,” he said. “My name is Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said automatically, then let out a hiccuping little sob. “Mr. Harry.”

“Aw, no, love, none of that here. Just Harry will do. I'm not too much older than you are. I mean, what are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

That surprised a laugh out of her. “I'm  _ seven.” _

_ “What?” _ Harry gasped. “No, there's no way! You're sure you don't mean seventeen?” She shook her head and giggled wetly. Harry let out a low whistle and leaned back on his hands. “I never would have guessed. I never met a seven-year-old as tough as you.”

“‘M not tough.”

“Sure you are,” Harry said. “You got lost, but you tried your hardest to get back even though you didn't know the way. And now look at you. I know you're scared, but you're still sitting here having a conversation with me. That's tough, kiddo.”

“That is pretty tough,” she admitted, then sniffled. “Okay. I'm a little tough.”

“More than a little,” Harry said and took the risk of leaning over to bump against her shoulder, just the slightest bit. She laughed, and he hid his grin behind the hood of the robe she had made for him. “Can I ask your name? ‘Toughest Girl I Ever Met’ has a nice ring to it, but it's a bit of a mouthful. What can I call you?”

“Callie.”

Harry couldn't feel the cold. His heart froze in his chest.

“Really?” he asked, voice strangled. “That's– that's a beautiful name, Callie.”

She turned then, looking up at him for the first time with a frown on her face. “You don't like it?”

“I love it,” he said honestly. “I just didn't expect it. I–” His breath caught, and he swallowed hard. “I knew a little girl named Callie once. Well, CJ. We called her CJ. She was littler than you, though. Only two.”

“You don't– oh.” Smart girl like Callie, already understood death and what it meant. Had to be able to put the pieces together. “Were you two friends?”

“Sister,” Harry said softly. “She was my little sister.”

He jumped when Callie took his hand. “I'm sorry, Harry,” she said earnestly. He turned to look down at her, and her mouth formed a little  _ O _ of surprise. “You're not Death!”

“What?” He raised his left hand to his face in surprise and felt warm skin under his fingertips. Whatever Callie had expected Death to look like, it seemed he no longer fit the bill . “Oh. Look at that.”

“How old are you?” She sounded bewildered, but she didn't let go of his hand. “You're not a skeleton anymore!”

“I'm eighteen,” he said, more or less honestly. Callie blinked a few times. 

“Are you, so.” She frowned. “So you're  _ not _ Death.”

“We're sort of friends,” Harry said. “But I'm not Death. I'm just here to say ‘hi,’ really. Even the toughest little girls could stand to have someone looking out for them once in a while.”

“Thank you,” Callie said. Her eyes drifted back to her body. “That's really nice. What, um, what do I do now?”

“What do you think you do?” Harry asked. “What do you think heaven is like?”

“It's probably pretty,” Callie said thoughtfully. “I think, um, maybe it's like a birthday party forever. And everyone there is friends. Does that sound good, maybe?”

Harry smiled. “I think that sounds lovely. Have you got an invitation to that party?”

Callie's eyes lit up, and she scrambled to her feet. “I do!” she cried, eyes wide as she looked at something he couldn't see. “There's balloons!”

Harry stood up and smiled at her as she took a few excited steps forward. She paused at the last second, and his stomach twisted nervously. He didn't want her to drag this out. She couldn't stay, and he didn't want this to hurt her. 

But she was smiling at him, one foot through the door. “Harry! Maybe I'll see CJ!”

And then she was gone.

Harry stayed there for longer than he should have, in the snow and the wind and the cold, standing over Callie’s body and staring at the place where her spirit had disappeared. Maybe. Maybe. 

**Author's Note:**

> I do have an idea of when this fic takes place in the larger story, but it's vague enough that honestly, this could be from any time. It really doesn't have anything to do with the overarching plot; it's pretty much just here to touch on some aspects of Harry's backstory that I don't think are ever going to come up in the main series.


End file.
